The Choice
by BensSecretHeart
Summary: Reylo AU. Lady Rey Kenobi has waited for nineteen years for her father to return back to her. Waiting in the English countryside she receives a long feared letter describing her worst nightmare; her father is dead. With the letter comes a promise from her fathers lawyer Mr Kylo Ren, he will be arriving soon to discuss the will. Set against the back drop of Regency England.
1. Chapter 1

Lady Rey Kenobi's eyes searched the letter she clutched tightly in her hands, the sides getting more and more crumpled as she re-read and re-read. One line she knew would be forever engrained upon her memory.  
 _… that I regret to inform you your father has died.  
…your father has died.  
_He's dead. _  
_The damned letter gave no further explanation. No inkling to his demise, it was here the letter ended with an enraging,  
 _I shall be visiting you in England soon to discuss the will.  
Sincerely,  
Mr Kylo Ren _

Was it illness, disease, an accident, or even the most gruesome of all, murder? Lady Kenobi felt only hatred for her father's heartless lawyer, this so called Kylo Ren. It didn't enter her mind of course that he perhaps knew nothing of their estranged relationship. It is very likely this Mr Ren had never heard the damned sorry tale. How his client Lord Sylvester Kenobi's much loved wife died while giving birth to their greatly wanted daughter. They had tried and tried for ten years to conceive, the joyous day they had been waiting for almost a decade had come. Their daughter Lady Rey Kenobi, all big hazel eyes, chubby fingers and rosy cheeks, topped off with a tuft of chestnut brown hair. The day of her birth the once cheerful and carefree Lord Kenobi had turned to the bottle, within the week he left for the colonies. She'd waited for him to return ever since.

Now of course it was the end. He was dead. She felt cheated and defeated. The answers she had wanted for so long would never be hers. No one could tell her what she needed to hear. Her father was gone. And so we're her hopes.

It hadn't quite sunk in but the letter fell from her eyes, still clutched and rumpling in her grip. Lady Rey felt hollow, empty, nothing but a void. Her uncle found her this way long after the candles had died out and dinner had turned cold. He placed a hand on her shoulder and then the empty void let out its first sob in nineteen years.

Rey wiped away the tears that made her whole face glisten within seconds and turned to her uncle Mr Andrew Kenobi. Although the tears conveyed her distress, her voice sounded hollow when she spoke all her uncle had already guessed "He's dead. My father, your brother, that's it, gone." Her uncle lifted his hand to pat her back.

Mr Andrew, or now Lord Andrew Kenobi, was a quiet man but uncommonly kind; in all her life Rey could not remember him saying more than twenty words a month. Most days she never saw him at all, except for dinner, they shared a happy silence. His quiet nature had never annoyed Rey, this was who he was and she accepted him. He kept to his study and she kept mostly to the stables and the surrounding grounds. She knew he missed his brother, on several occasions she had wondered why he did not try to find out his whereabouts. Rey never let herself dwell on why she did question him on the subject, she was scared in truth. What if he too left her in this barren land and never came back? She'd have to find another wall to start scratching all the days her uncle was gone too if it came to it.

Lady Rey sobbed in her hands for what felt like a lifetime, her uncle said not a word as he patted her silently on the back, rubbing circles now and again. It was pitch black in Rey's room by the time he finally spoke. Rey was startled into stillness when she heard her uncle clear his throat. "I-I-I'm sorry Rey"

She smiled sadly up at him through clouded eyes, although he could barely see it. Andrew Kenobi was as average a man as ever lived. He was neither tall nor short nor fat nor thin. His neither short nor long hair was mousey brown in hue and his eyes were indescribable also, each light gave them an entirely different cast. He always wore muted colours, a brown coat which had become lighter with age or a navy great coat for riding in his carriage to the church on Sunday. He was showing signs of his age, especially around his temples where he had begun to go grey. Lady Rey did not know her uncles age but she respected he must have been nearing five and forty.

Rey placed her hand on top of his, "I am too, he was your brother and I know how much you missed him."

She could see her uncle's eyes glistening with escaping tears in the glow of the moon light, but as always they looked incredibly kind. The sight of emotion in her otherwise reserved uncle made her heartbreak even more; she knew he felt similarly to her. "What are we to do now?" she asked.

Her uncle looked away from her for a moment and removed his hand from her shoulder, he stood straight and composed himself almost like he was about to give a speech "I have always wished to- that is, I know you have been waiting for your father to come back so I-I did not dream of mentioning it before, but I would very much like for you to go to London."

Rey did not know what she had expected him to say but she had never let herself consider leaving home. That was before the reason for her staying had been snatched away from her, of course.

"London?" she knitted her eye brows together in thought, "I suppose there is no reason for us to stay now, now he is really not ever to return to us."

Her uncle gave no more response than a nod.

"We should leave as soon as we are able; I have no inkling as to what we should pack." Rey chewed on her bottom lip as she pondered. This was something she had done since childhood and her uncle thought it always made her look no older than three again.

"I confess it has been quite some time since I visited town but I think I should be able to make arrangements for us to leave within the week." The new Lord Kenobi made to leave her room.

"Thank you uncle, and I am so very sorry." she wiped the remainder of her tears and smiled again at the kind man who was all she had left. She suspected they'd only had each other from the moment her mother had died. She was and knew she would forever be thankful she had her dear sweet silent guardian.

He paused closing the door, "I too am sorry, now rest Rey. Goodnight."


	2. Chapter 2

Notes- Thank you to all who have read so far, this is my first fan fiction actually uploaded so its really really appreciated. I'm aware my grammar is fairly poor so please don't refrain from offering tips for any feedback on how I may improve. I hope to make the chapters longer from here on out! Here's to getting past the opening filler and getting to real dialogue between Kylo and Rey.. because really, that's what we all want right?

Anyhow, thank you again and I hope you enjoy!

By the fifth day after the news of Lord Sylvester Kenobi's death, the new Lord Kenobi and his niece Lady Rey were ready to set off for town. The chaise Lady Rey's father and mother had used in happier days was still in remarkable condition. It was a little outdated and in need of a few minor repairs but once their groomsman Mr Jones and their footman Fred had fixed what was needed and had given it a new lick of paint, it was ready to be set on the road once again.

Rey felt a buzz around the house she'd never experienced before, normally life went at an almost excruciatingly slow pace but now time seemed to fly. She felt guilty at feeling slightly excited for her trip, she did feel grief but she worried it was not enough as was usual for a daughter grieving her father. Perhaps she wasn't to blame, she had no memories of him to mourn or remember.

Rey had never noticed how many servants her uncle had under their employ until they were close to leaving. Many of them flew past her carrying trunks and boxes. The house was to be shut up while they were away, already several of their servants were covering furniture with white blankets, shutting shutters and locking doors and cabinets full of expensive ornaments her father and uncle had collected during their grand tour.

Lord Andrew Kenobi was ready to go, he nodded to Rey standing at the top of the stairway, he knew she probably needed a moment to say goodbye to the only home she'd known thus far. Once Rey was alone she headed back to her room for a last check to make sure she had all she needed, the shutters in her room were the only left to be closed, and she had told her maid Clara that she would do it herself. Clara never argued nor questioned her Lady.

Rey's fingers traced the pale blue canopy of her bed, the old silk felt so familiar to her. She glided her hand to where she'd accidentally set fire to it while reading. She had acted remarkably fast in putting it out, so much so that it had only had time to burn no more than two inches of fabric away and tarnished not so much more. Rey remembered the smell it had produced and how it lingered long after, it smelled of burnt hair and Rey had burnt many of those by getting to close to the candle while pouring over books long into the night. She could remember the book, it was one of her fathers, she knew because it had been made out to him from her great-grandfather Lord Obi-Wan Kenobi in the interface page. It was a book on the history of England, she'd read it several times over, she often spent her days and nights daydreaming about kings and queens gone by. Rey quickly checked her night stand to make sure it had been packed. It had, she was sure.

Rey shivered in the cold, all the fires had been put out ready for their journey, and she wrapped her shawl tightly around herself. One of their matched bay horses gave a whinny and Rey moved to the window, her uncle was walking the gardens, cane in one hand and top hat set in place, he was taking advantage of the exercise before being sat in the chaise for the next five hours it took just to get to Warwick, London would be many more hours the next day.

Rey ran her hand up and down the wood panelling next to her window; her uncle had never told her off for doing it. He knew what the scratches meant from the moment she'd started doing them aged only five. They counted the days since the day her father had left, at least the day she had found out her father was still alive and presumably to return one day. The markings had started from the bottom and went up; it had only been six days since she'd added the last to the list. Rey had left a chair there exclusively for the purpose of standing on to etch in the day. She thought it was darkly fortunate.. She had begun to run out of room.

Lady Rey thought of the nights she couldn't sleep, how she'd sometimes sit and start to count the scratches in a vain attempt to try to nod off. Sometimes it worked; sometimes it kept her up longer. She'd thinking of her father and the life he was having thousands and thousands of miles away from her. Other times she'd stare at the lines until they blurred together and hardly looked like lines at all, just one flat un-vandalised wall. Today she spun fast out of the room to the awaiting carriage. It was time to go.

Lord Kenobi was awaiting her by the horses that were strapped and ready to go, he handed her into the carriage and they both sat on either side. Lady Rey glanced down to see a pile of books,

"Ah," her uncle started, clearing his throat, "those are from my study, I thought you might like something new to read on our journey. I know you've read all you wish to from the library. These were once gifts to me from your mother, I know I should have given them to you sooner, but I-I well…"

Rey's eyes grew wide with apparent joy as she thumbed them and looked through them one by one. Her uncle watched as she went, he really wished he had given them to her sooner now; the happiness on her face was delightful. He had been selfish in not letting her know of their existence, but no matter he thought, she had them now.

"Oh, thank you uncle! These are wonderful." She smiled and took his hand in thanks, before selecting a title and settling down for the long ride ahead. Within the first twenty minutes, Lord Kenobi was softly snoring, hunched over in the corner. His top hat had started to dip forward covering his closed eyes, each jolt of the chaise made it fall further. Rey looked up to see him this way and giggled at the sight before getting re-amerced into Mary Davy's 'The Fugitive'.

It was early evening by the time they reached the coaching inn "The Black Prince", Rey herself had fallen to the lure of sleep and was woken by her uncle calling her name.

Opening her eyes she saw him giving her a kind smile from the carriage door, his hand out stretched for her to take. Nightfall was the busiest time for an inn, Lady Rey was well aware they weren't the only people to just arrive. There were several carriages and men on horseback, curricles and carts stood while groomsmen detached and swapped some peoples horses. This was also a place for travellers to change horses so they could carry on with their journeys. Lord Kenobi and his niece were quietly glad not all of these people would be staying the night. They weren't used to such an abundance of others.

Rey sensed her uncle's discomfort and patted his arm, he looked at her and the crease between his brows abated.

The interior of "The Black Prince" was just as crazy as the exterior and if possible, far more noisy. The poor clerk behind the desk looked no older than Rey herself. He was facing the crowd of newcomers with obvious anxiety and dread. His pale complexion was turned crimson, his hair a bright orange didn't help in making him look less flushed, and his dark eyes bulged at the ruckus before him. His cravat hung open at his neck exposing his flushed chest, he kept going to awkwardly finger the piece of fabric in an attempt to relive stress. He'd then remember his unpresentable state, already trying and failing to correct himself. He handed keys and gave directions to several ladies and gentlemen before it was hers and her uncles turn to be given their rooms.

"Good evening," Lord Kenobi started; he had as much confidence in his tone as the clerk had in his composure. "'M-m-my-"

Lady Rey decided to take over "My uncle and I have reserved rooms with you, Lord Andrew Kenobi and Lady Rey?" The crimson man looked at her with an expression strangely close to awe; he met her eyes for a moment before never looking in her direct direction again.

He ran his finger down the list of names before him, "Ah yes, we have you right here." Turning around to the seemingly endless wall of keys, Rey couldn't believe the inn had so many, yes it was large but it wasn't as big as her home back in Jakkuna. The man had strange erratic movements that made Rey feel nervous, you never knew if he'd suddenly move unexpectedly or turn suddenly.

He handed the keys to Lord Kenobi, "My Lord, your rooms are on the second floor, numbers 8 and 10. They're directly opposite one another. You may come down for dinner whenever you choose between now and ten o'clock." He tried to bring himself to look at Rey again but failed "any problems please come to me, my name is Walter. Have a good evening."

They thanked him before setting off for their rooms, Clara carried Rey's small overnight trunk in tow. Her uncle sped before her and called her attention from the many drawings and paintings framed along the corridor. They depicted the inn from the time it had been built until one year previously. Each one had been done by different artists that had been visiting in their own explorations, some men and some women, some by famous names and others by those less known.

She stopped to look at one in particular, it was different from the rest; it was an imagined scene. It still depicted the inn, however the characters that inhabited the scene wore medieval dress and the inn's architecture was of the later Tudor style. Rey being an avid historian was then positive in her assertion that this was fantasy. The inn's name had changed which matched the title of the oil underneath "The Heir Returned". It wouldn't have taken anyone, let alone a self-proclaimed historian long to decipher who the heir was. He was right there in the fore ground, dressed in black armour, standing in victory.

"Rey, you may ponder the paintings later." Her uncle called as he approached her, he said it with no trace of annoyance,

"I think we both need to clean up before dinner, and as much as I would like to trust the rest of the residents of this house, I would feel far easier if you went into your room with Clara and met me out here in an hour. I promise I shall let you look all you like before dinner."

Rey did as he bid. Her room was smaller than her one at home, it was dark panelled wood all over and the furniture matched the dark theme. Lady Rey felt surprisingly comfortable in the fire warmed room; the dark wood was given a cheery cast from the fire. At the window was a small seat and opposite the fire were two single beds separated by a small table which sat two candles not yet lit.

While Rey wandered to the diamond shaped windows and looked out upon the hustle and bustle of the inn's stables. It seemed to have calmed down a little since their arrival, the groom and stable boys were hard at work, feeding, brushing and either reattaching horses or detaching them from carriages and phaetons.

Another coach arrived, it was packed with people, and some were even perched on the top and were obviously already deep into their cups. They swayed long after the coach did; roughly people pushed their way out of the coach. The driver, a small smartly dressed man got down and started talking to a wide gentleman that Lady Rey assumed was the inn keep. Both men chuckled while the driver took out his snuff box and offered some to the inn keep before taking a huge pinch and inhaling it through his nasal passage.

Rey had assumed all the passengers had exited the carriage when another, much more gracefully made his way out. He was tall, much taller than the inn keep and the driver. He wore almost head to toe black matching his wavy dark tresses which he currently ran his hand though with veined impatience. Rey couldn't see his face for more than a second since he turned his back to her. He seemed to be starting an argument with driver, he seemed to try to rise to whatever was being accused of him but soon reverted into himself before scurrying back to his driving seat, and he gathered the reins tightly. The red of his cheeks was apparent. The man in black straightened barked a command to the inn keep; he then retaliated with a fist shaking in his direction. The angry and Rey suspected way-out-of-line gentleman didn't seem to say anything more to the inn keep, it was clear a look was enough to send him running into the inn.

Not a moment later did Rey see the passengers that had not left the carriage for more than a minute run back out and pile into the awaiting coach. The black clothed fellow obviously had some kind of command over the group and before long the driver whipped the coach back into motion.

"My Lady, the water will be getting cold" Rey, forgetting what she had witnessed walked over to where Clara stood next to a basin of water and dry linen.

The dining hall at dinner time was a spectacle to Lady Rey, she'd never experienced anything quite like it. While her uncle sat hunched in the corner, hiding as far behind the sheltered confines of his book, he was silently sneaking forkfuls of cold meats and potatoes into his solace. Rey had all but appeared to forget the dinner before her, she was far too preoccupied people watching and well she'd never seen so many in her life, and none ever so close!

Lady Rey Kenobi had to admit, she was enjoying the first leg of their adventure enormously.


End file.
